Fifteen years later
Nadia stood at the window of Alessandro's Buckhead estate, watching black cars roll up the circular drive. Her reflection stared back at her, a young woman in a simple gray dress, hair pulled into a neat bun. Unremarkable. Forgettable.
Exactly as she intended.
"They are arriving early," Alessandro said behind her. His voice carried the weight of worry. "The DeLucas always make an entrance."
Nadia's fingers went to the gold necklace hidden beneath her collar. Fifteen years she had waited for this. Fifteen years of patience, planning, becoming invisible while learning everything about the families who had destroyed hers.
"I am ready," she said quietly.
Alessandro moved beside her, his silver hair catching the afternoon light. "Nadia, you do not have to do this. We can leave Atlanta. Start over somewhere they will never find us."
She turned to him, this man who had saved her life and raised her in secret. "And let them forget? Let them think the Ferragamos died without consequence?"
"Your father."
"My father trusted the wrong people," Nadia interrupted. "I will not make the same mistake."
The doorbell chimed. Alessandro's butler moved to answer it, and Nadia took a steadying breath. Showtime.
She descended the curved staircase slowly, keeping her eyes down as voices filled the marble foyer. Rich, powerful voices discussing business and politics. These were the men who controlled Atlanta's underworld, who had connections reaching back to Rome, who had stood by and done nothing when her family burned.
"Alessandro!" A booming voice echoed through the hall. "You have outdone yourself. This estate rivals anything in Lake Como."
Nadia recognized the voice from her research. Marco DeLuca, patriarch of the family, Leo Kamali's closest ally. Her hands clenched at her sides.
"You are too kind," Alessandro replied smoothly. "Please, come in. Champagne is being served in the garden."
Nadia reached the bottom of the stairs and moved toward the kitchen, playing her role. Just the ward. Just a nobody.
"And who is this?"
The voice stopped her cold. It was deeper than Marco's, younger, with an edge of command that made the air feel heavier.
She turned slowly.
The man standing in the foyer was tall, dark-haired, wearing a suit that probably cost more than most people's cars. But it was not the expensive clothes that made her breath catch. It was his eyes. Dark, intense, and fixed on her with an unsettling focus.
Something pulled tight in her chest. Wrong. This felt wrong.
"My ward, Nadia," Alessandro said, his tone carefully neutral. "Nadia, this is Roman DeLuca."
The son. Nadia's research had told her Roman was twenty-six, ruthless, brilliant. Being groomed to take over the family empire. She had seen photographs, but they had not prepared her for the reality of him.
Or for whatever this feeling was that made her skin prickle with awareness.
"A pleasure," Roman said, but he did not look away from her. His gaze moved over her face like he was memorizing it. "Have we met before?"
"No," Nadia said quickly. Too quickly. She forced herself to soften her tone. "I would remember."
"So would I." Roman stepped closer, and that strange pull in her chest tightened. "You live here with Alessandro?"
"I have been his ward since I was a child."
"Interesting." Roman's lips curved slightly. "I will look forward to learning more about you, Nadia."
He moved past her toward the garden, but Nadia felt his attention linger like a physical touch. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
Alessandro waited until the footsteps faded. "That was not supposed to happen."
"What was not supposed to happen?" Nadia's voice came out sharper than intended.
"The way he looked at you." Alessandro's face had gone pale. "Nadia, I think…."
A scream cut through the estate.
Nadia ran toward the sound, instinct overriding caution. She burst into the garden and stopped.
A woman lay on the ground, champagne glass shattered beside her. Blood pooled beneath her head. Guests backed away, murmuring in shock.
Marco DeLuca knelt beside the woman, his face twisted with rage. "Poison. Someone poisoned her drink."
"Impossible," Alessandro said, rushing forward. "Security checked everything."
"Then you have a traitor in your house." Marco stood, and his eyes swept the crowd. "Or perhaps you are the traitor, Alessandro."
The accusation hung in the air like smoke. Nadia's mind raced. This was not part of her plan. Someone else was making moves tonight.
Roman appeared at his father's side, his expression unreadable. But his eyes found Nadia across the garden, and something passed between them. Recognition. Suspicion.
"Everyone stays," Roman ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos. "No one leaves until we know who did this."
Alessandro's hand gripped Nadia's arm. "Go to your room. Now."
"But…."
"Now, Nadia."
She obeyed, slipping through the crowd. But as she reached the French doors, a hand caught her wrist.
Roman.
"You are Alessandro's ward," he said softly. "Which means you know this house. You know who had access to that champagne."
Nadia's pulse jumped. Up close, the pull toward him was almost painful. "I do not know anything about this."
"I think you know more than you are saying." His thumb pressed against her wrist, right over her racing pulse. "I can feel it."
She jerked her hand away. "You are wrong."
"Am I?" Roman leaned closer, and Nadia caught the scent of expensive cologne and something else. Something that made her wolf stir for the first time in years. "Because my instincts are never wrong. And they are telling me you are very, very dangerous."
Before she could respond, another shout erupted from the garden.
"She is alive! The woman is alive!"
Roman's head snapped toward the sound. When he looked back at Nadia, his eyes had changed. Darker. More predatory.
"This is not over," he said.
He released her and strode back toward the garden. Nadia stood frozen, her wrist burning where he had touched her.
Alessandro appeared at her side, his face ashen. "Pack a bag. We are leaving Atlanta tonight."
"Why? What is happening?"
"The woman who collapsed?" Alessandro's voice shook. "She works for Leo Kamali. And the poison in her system? It is the same compound used to kill your father."
Nadia's world tilted. "That is impossible. No one else knew."
"Someone knows, Nadia. Someone knows you are alive. And they just declared war."
Through the window, Nadia saw Roman watching the house. Watching her.
And she realized with cold certainty that everything she had planned for fifteen years had just become infinitely more complicated.